


Lean On Me

by Treadmillofanxiety



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treadmillofanxiety/pseuds/Treadmillofanxiety
Summary: Flatmates. That's what Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley are. Just flatmates. If Oliver doesn't do something, that's all they'll ever be, at least until one of them moves out. Percy is too exhausted and overrun with work all of the time to deal with his personal life to notice what's going on between them. So that leaves it to Oliver to catch Percy's attention and confess his feelings.
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 14
Kudos: 232





	1. Crushin' It

Oliver's cheeks burned as he watched Percy trudge through the house in his clothes, oblivious to the turmoil in his head. Not that it was unusual of his flatmate to be so inconsiderate.

"Don't you have your own clothes to wear?" Oliver asked, hoping that his voice was casual and wouldn't somehow give away the fact that he thought Percy looked hot as hell wearing his clothes. 

"Of course," Percy grumbled, tugging on the sleeves of Oliver's shirt, attempting not to be drowned by the large clothes. "I'm waiting for our laundry to finish, and your clothes are much softer, anyway."

Oliver sighed, momentarily distracted from the whole clothing situation. "You know how to use a simple cleaning charm, I'm sure Molly at least taught you a few before you moved out."

"I do, really!" Percy said, "it's just that- well, you know cleaning charms aren't the same thing as getting them washed, seeing as they aren't nearly as thorough, and it doesn't even have that nice scent that the washer gives them."

"Percy..." Oliver said, "I really don't see how wearing my clothes are a better alternative to a simple cleaning charm, regardless of your preferences."

Percy blushed lightly as he played with the seam of the sweater. "I told you, they're softer."

"I didn't say I minded," he laughed. 

"Well then don't say anything!" 

Poor Percy was overwhelmed with embarrassment at this point, so Oliver decided to have some mercy and let it go in favor of making some breakfast. It was both of their days off, and it was the least Oliver could do, considering Percy was doing the laundry.

He turned from Percy to open the fridge and see what he could make.

He wasn't an expert chef, but he knew his way around the kitchen, and Percy appreciated his cooking, so he counted that as a win. He had nothing on Mrs Weasley's cooking, but that didn't seem to bother Percy, seeing as he never failed to dig in to whatever he had cooked up. 

"Are you making pancakes?" Percy asked from over his shoulder, making Oliver jump slightly.

"If that's what you want," he said, taking in the sight of Percy's long eyelashes in the light of the fridge. 

In turn, Percy paid no notice and reached past Oliver's waist to grab the pack of eggs, pushing his chest flush against Oliver's back, almost giving him a heart attack in the process. 

"Want help?" Percy asked, oblivious as usual, pushing himself up onto the counter next to where he had set the eggs.

Merlin, Percy was definitely going to be the end of him. First with wearing his clothes, and now sitting on the counter where he would constantly be within his sight.

"Uh." 

"I can stir the batter, if you want?"

"Don't you want to use magic?" Oliver asked, turning his face to the cool of the fridge in an attempt to keep his head on straight. 

"It is a lot slower this way, so we can spend more time together while we work on it," Percy said, fussing with the hem of his shirt, apparently oblivious to Oliver's bewildered stare. 

"Oh, uh- sure, alright," he stuttered, setting out to gather the rest of the ingredients. Not that he didn't appreciate Percy's efforts to spend time together, but he was usually diving right into his work first thing in the morning, despite it being his days off. 

He measured out and dumped the ingredients into a bowl and set to work, stirring them together. 

"Hey!" Percy yelped, flapping his sleeves in protest. "I thought I was doing the stirring!"

"Well," Oliver said, "you're always busy, and seeing as you're actually relaxing today, I might as well let you at it for as long as it lasts. You look tired anyway."

It was the truth, Percy did look tired. He had the usual dark circles under his eyes, and his general colour looked somewhat off. He also happened to know that Percy's sleep schedule was horrendous.

"Just relax for a bit," he pleaded. 

Alright, so maybe he was crushing on his flatmate, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Percy never seemed to catch on, and he wasn't disrupting the comfortable atmosphere of their friendship. At least, if Percy ever noticed that Oliver was constantly trying to coddle him, he never mentioned it. 

"I have to head out this afternoon to play quidditch with the group, so if you want to join in, you're welcome to," Oliver said, hoping to prolong Percy's relaxed attitude.

"I'd love to, but you know I don't really like playing quidditch..."

"I get it," he assured. "I just meant that you were welcome to tag along, see everyone."

"Oh well then, yes, I suppose I wouldn't mind." 

"Great," Oliver smiled, chest filling with warm bubbly feelings. He would get to spend more time with Percy!

He proceeded to pour some of the batter into the pan, practically vibrating. He may have been too excited at the prospect of possibly spending the whole day with Percy, but what could he say? He was a simple man. Any time he got to spend with Percy was honestly a miracle now days.

They spent breakfast together, Oliver occasionally staring at Percy in marvel as he wolfed down the pancakes like a man who'd been starved for weeks.

"Right," Oliver said as Percy had finally eaten enough pancakes. "I'm going to pack my gear, I'll be right back."

Oliver skipped his way to his room and filled his bag with his quidditch gear. It had been a while since Percy had been to one of their quidditch meetups. Even if the group was made up of mostly Weasleys, due to their old Gryffindor team being Weasleys (some of them married in, like Harry, Angelina, and Lee), and giving Percy a chance to see them at family gatherings instead, there were some that Percy didn't see often. 

He was about to announce that he was finished packing, when Percy appeared at his doorway, clutching a letter in one of his hands while he used his other hand to support himself against the frame. 

"I'm sorry, but I have to cancel that quidditch thing, I've just received an owl from work. It is very urgent, and my boss says that he needs me right away," Percy informed, his eyes apologetic. "I'm really sorry, Ollie."

Oliver tried to fix a reassuring smile on his face, but the effort was wasted, as Percy was gone as soon as he had appeared. 

He huffed and lowered himself on to his bed, elation quickly sinking. He really shouldn't have let his hopes soar so high when he knew that Percy was always so busy. He was lucky enough to get the morning with him anyway. 

|||

Quidditch with the Weasleys was draining as usual. Oliver collapsed into the grass with exhaustion, broom lightly gripped in his hands. 

"Good game," George crowed as he and Fred high fived each other, somehow still full of energy. 

"Yeah, great moves as usual, guys," Fred said, plopping himself next to Oliver. "especially to the seeker couple, nice maneuvers!"

"Honestly," Ginny sighed, stripping off her gloves as she fondly looked over to her husband who was doing the same, "if he thinks that the feints are going to work on me, he's kidding himself."

"Same to you," Harry quipped. "Although I have to admit, trying to pull that off when the snitch is in front of my face is a nice effort, points for trying."

"Shut it, how was I supposed to have time to look at your face when I'm trying to keep my ruddy team together?"

"Hey!" Lee and George cried. 

"No one ever said we had to take this seriously!" Said George.

"Yeah, we're only having a bit of fun!" Lee piped up. 

"Well, next time we should switch Angelina with Lee, see how that goes. What do you think, Oliver?" Ginny asked, turning to him.

Oliver groaned in response. 

"Hey, you good?" Ginny asked, stepping closer to nudge at his form. 

"Fine," he grumbled, annoyed. They would laugh if he told them anyway. 

"C'mon Wood, be a nice sport and tell us what's wrong or you're buying rounds at the pub after this." Lee challenged devilishly, although Oliver knew that it was just his way of being concerned.

"Sorry, guys, I'm not trying to be a spoilsport, I was just having trouble with Percy this mornin', that's all."

George snorted. 

"Don't let our stuffy brother get you down," Fred smirked. "The rest of us are better humored anyway."

Oliver frowned and muttered, "that's the problem" though no one seemed to hear him, too busy chattering with excitement for the pub.

He grumbled and pushed himself off of the ground, determined not to feel sorry for himself. It wasn't like Percy had promised anything, and they weren't anything more than friends either, so Percy didn't owe him a single thing. Oliver had no right to feel so down. 

Resolved to have a good time, Oliver forced himself to smile and catch up with his group.

"Alright?" Harry asked him as they made their way to the pub. "Did you two have a row or something?"

"Nah," Oliver assured, "just me being silly."

Oliver was startled by Ginny's strong arms setting themselves around his shoulders. He made a mental note to ask her what routine she was doing to get muscles like that. 

I know you two are close," she said, "and I may even say that you're the closest person to Percy, at least. Might even be the same for you. If something's the matter, you two will work through it."

"Thanks." 

"Of course," Ginny winked. "Now tell me about Puddlemore United- who should I look out for next season?"

Oliver laughed and launched into his usual speech of standards and principles, glad to have such good friends and quidditch players by his side. 

At six, Oliver unlocked the apartment and let himself in. The lights were off, which meant that Percy wasn't home yet. 

He sighed and hoped that Percy wouldn't stay in the office too late, because Oliver didn't think that he would be able to stay awake past ten tonight. He had used much of his energy playing quidditch and socializing, not to mention escorting drunk George and Lee back to their house. Oliver wondered when they would become responsible adults. Probably never. 

Smiling fondly at the thought, Oliver lumbered into the kitchen, ignoring the heaviness of his body in favour of grabbing a pot to cook some stew in. 

If Percy was going to work late, he would probably end up going to bed without a proper dinner, as he had done for the first few weeks of them sharing an apartment together before Oliver had decided to intervene. He had started with trying his hand at making soups, then moving on to more difficult foods. 

He found cooking to be enjoyable, as it was somewhat involving, but it had also brought him closer to his mum. In the beginning, he had only known how to make simple foods, like sandwiches and such, so he had called her for insight, allowing for them to discuss recipes and then some more. 

He had set up a muggle telephone in is apartment with the help of Mr Weasley's tweaking. His mother (who was muggle and preferred muggle technology) was overjoyed, to say in the least, and they spent about an hour a week talking on the phone. 

Of course, Percy was a bit disturbed by the presence of the phone in the beginning, but after seeing how it made Oliver happy, ceased his complaining. Oliver liked to think that maybe Percy returned his feelings somewhat, although he never pursued to find out. They were both too busy for anything anyway. 

Ignoring the aching in his chest, Oliver set to work.


	2. Terrible Twos

"-and make sure to take care of yourself, Oliver, I don't want another notice from St Mungo's telling me you've broken something again, for God's sakes-"

"Alright, mum, got it-" 

"And don't forget to tell Percy I said hello, now,"

"I won't mum, I've really got to go-"

"Alright, love, be good and don't forget to thoroughly read the recipe I sent you, it's a tricky one," Mrs Wood tutted, cramming as much into the conversation as she could before it came to a close. 

"Okay, love you, mum," 

"Love you, too," she cooed, giving a small kiss through the phone before the line went dead. 

Oliver sighed and dropped the receiver down with a click. His mother never really changed. She was as bossy and headstrong as ever, which is probably where Oliver got some of his personality traits from, if he thought about it. 

"Your mum?" Percy asked from his position on the couch, his nose tucked into a very ancient looking book. 

"Yep, she says hi, by the way," Oliver informed, squinting curiously at the book cover to try and make out the title. "What do you have there?"

"Just a book that will help with the situation at work." Percy turned the page. "Floo Networks are not as popular as they used to be, since the rise in popularity of brooms, so we have to find a solution, since they're rather problematic in terms of accidents and muggle detection...not to mention harder to keep track of legally. I supposed that finding an alternative form of transportation woul remedy the issue, since fireplaces aren't really something that many people have anymore. "

"I mean, we don't have a fireplace," Oliver said, "and we get by just fine."

Percy rolled his eyes. "just because we get by fine doesn't mean that there's nothing to be improved. Honestly, Oliver."

"Alright," he shrugged. It wasn't like a fully understood Percy's work anyway. Not that he thought it wasn't important, he of all people knew how hard his roommate worked. 

He grabbed his keys off of the counter and shoved his wallet into his coat. 

"I left some food in the fridge for you, so make sure you grab some of it for lunch if I'm not back by then, alright?" He called as he shoved his shoes on. 

"Wait, where are you going?" 

"I'm heading over to the twins' shop, won't be long," Oliver assured. He had been invited over last night, per the owners' requests ("Honestly, Wood, you can't stay cooped up with our annoying brother forever!"), and would have looked forward to it if not for Percy being home today. 

Oh well.

Oliver called a short farewell and left the apartment, making his way to a good discrete apparition location. (yes, most adult wizards don't apparate as much, but he was in a mood for it, rather than the usual portkey. )

As he walked down the dim apartment hallway and pressed the elevator button, he couldn't help but mourn the earlier days when Percy was less busy all of the time (if that was even possible) and they could talk more. The whole reason why they were flatmates was because they were mates in the first place! They would talk about anything and everything, which wasn't surprising, considering how passionate they were about their own careers.

Oliver shook out of his internal pity party at the ding of the elevator and stepped in, absently pressing the button to the ground floor. 

If he didn't stop thinking about this now, he would be bummed for the rest of the day, like a... neglected boyfriend or something. Which he wasn't. And he shouldn't even think of himself as one in a joking manner either. Honestly. 

Kicking himself mentally, he stepped out of the lift and briskly made his way out of the apartment and down a dark alleyway. Then, with a concentrated inhale, apparated himself away, to Diagon Alley, right in front of the shop. 

"Oliver!" Fred cried, greeting him at the entrance with his usual easy smile. 

"Hey, Fred,"

"Nice of you to pop by!" The redhead laughed, setting his arm over Oliver's shoulder. "what have you been up to these days?"

"I saw you yesterday," he deadpanned.

"And time is but a concept," Fred cheerfully replied. 

Oliver allowed for himself to be steered through the crowd of excited children and teens alike who were no doubt immersed in the world of Fred and George Weasley. It was truly a magnificent sight.

"Could I interest you in some of our love potions?" Fred asked, pulling Oliver to a halt next to a bright pink station in the shop, filled to the brim with bottles of pink liquid. 

Oliver eyed the teenager next to him who was holding three bottles of amortentia and shuddered. 

"No thanks," 

"Really? Not interested in anyone? A teammate perhaps? Or even a cute neighbor?" 

"_No_," Oliver ground out, annoyed at how his brain supplied an image of his flatmate so quickly. Really, he was disappointed in himself and thoroughly disgusted. He would never dose Percy with amortentia. 

"You sure? I could always discount the bottles if you want some," Fred continued to pester, no doubt gleeful of the flush making its way up Oliver's cheeks. 

"_Especially_ if you want to prank Percy with it," George appeared, attaching himself to the other side of Oliver, effectively crowding him. 

_Why._

"I don't- I don't think-" Oliver tried, feeling the flush intensify over his face. 

"Aww, Olive!" George teased, nudging him in the ribs. "Don't let your morals get in the way of fun! Besides, you need a little push in the romance side of things, especially after last time."

"Don't call me that," Oliver sighed, pushing them both off of himself to cool down, "and I still haven't forgiven you for the little 'push' you gave me last week."

"Hey, missing ear here, hello," George said, pointing to the left side of his head. "I can say whatever I want, remember? And I think that you shouldn't let our last attempt ruin you for life."

"Merlin," Oliver groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Sometimes he didn't know why he put up with his friends. "Your attempt got me _hospitalized_. For a_ week_. I missed practice!"

"It happens to the best of us," George said sympathetically. Then, resuming his position at Oliver's side, his twin doing the same, steered him over to the counter. 

Both twins leaned over the counter grinning at Oliver, seizing him up. Oliver knew that this meant the twins had something terrible up their sleeves, and that he had every reason to be afraid. Perhaps he should leave. 

"So..." Fred started, leaning closer to Oliver, grinning wider and wider like a shark, "who's ready to try out some new merchandise?"

"Perhaps our little Olive?" George sing-songed. 

He wanted to go home to his flat with Percy and never come back out. 

Sadly, Oliver had no chance to act on his wishes before to the twins' grabbed him by the collar and blew some terrible, glittery powder onto his face, causing him to inhale the no doubt toxic substance. The dust caught in his lungs, submitting him to violent coughing as his eyes ran and his head...tingled.

"Sorry, mate," Fred- or George, Oliver couldn't tell with his swimming vision and pounding head- said, not sounding apologetic at all.

"Yeah, sorry," the other twin voiced, also not sounding very sorry. "We just haven't had anyone to test our products on in weeks, although we even upped the pay. Everyone in the family has threatened mutiny and such if we try anything with them, and we figured you're the best candidate!" 

Oliver didn't see how that made any sense but he didn't care to try and sort it all out in his head. He could feel the tingling intensify as his sinuses screamed in irritation. 

"He sure is the bloody best candidate, our wittle Ollie Olive," the other agreed, "pro quidditch player and all that!"

Oliver normally would have been mad, but he was too busy wiping at his face with his sleeves to do so. 

One of the twins seemed to have taken notice of his suffering. "Ah, yeah, we've been working on those initial symptoms for quite a while now but, no luck. Should last for the next five minutes or so." 

Five minutes?! What next, he would die in a ditch on his way home? 

Oliver opened his mouth to ask what he should do, but regretted the action immediately due to an emerging headache, and left it. 

Thankfully, Lee entered the scene, clapping one of the twins (ah, so that one is George) on the behind in greeting and situating himself in front of the register. 

"Ah! Oliver..." Lee trailed of, probably because of how terrible Oliver looked. "You look-"

"-Like he's drowning in troll snot, we know," George supplied, making Oliver gag at the helpful imagery. 

"He's fine," Fred said, and Oliver was certain of who was to be the first he would kill, if he could ever see and think clearly again. 

At the moment, Oliver simply wanted to cry for help, but he couldn't find the motivation to do so, as the tingling was now a loud static in his brain. He couldn't for the life of him remember why he had thought visiting the joke shop was a good idea, and now wished he had stayed behind with Percy. 

Fred clapped his hands, making Oliver flinch. "Right, so. Oliver, make sure to remember every single detail happening to you right now, so that you can tell us the results tomorrow. You also should be aware that you will be feeling-"

Oliver decided then and there that he was just going to check out of the conversation. Not that it mattered, anyway, this conversation. No, what really mattered was getting something- something important done, yes. What was it though, that he was doing? 

"-did you guys give him? The hiccough hex powder?" Lee was asking George.

"No," he answered, his voice swimming in and out of Oliver's scattered mind, "we gave him a small bit of the new stuff, you know, the one we hadn't given a name to yet. It's the one that's a mix of veritaserum and-" he babbled on, the words washing over Oliver. 

Right, back to the subject at hand... Oliver had something important to do, and it was terribly important, he just knew it. It was itching at the back of his mind, calling for attention... If he could just_ think_-

In a sudden moment of mental clarity, Oliver decided that he was going to go home to Percy. All he could feel was the yearning to do so burning through his chest and pumping through his veins. He had to do this. He _needed_ to. 

So, he turned from the twins who were explaining something or another, and marched with resolve to the exit of the shop. He didn't know why he hadn't done so sooner, this was the best decision he had made all day!

His efforts to escape, however, were interrupted by someone grabbing his shoulder and yanking his body back. 

Oliver let out a small groan as his head throbbed and he was submerged back under the confusing haze once more. 

"Now listen, Oliver," Lee was speaking, hand gripping his shoulder and immobilizing him to the spot, "you be careful on the way home, yeah? Fred and George gave you a good amount of the stuff and it's not fully tested yet, so you should take it easy. Your concentration will be significantly lowered for the next hour or so, and during that time, your magic will be somewhat unstable, so don't try getting home using magic, alright?"

Oliver made an affirmative noise, attempting to squirm out of the man's grip, but finding himself still stuck. He had to get home to Percy, damn it!

Lee slipped something into his coat pocket, patting the object through the fabric. "On your way, now," he winked. 

Oliver didn't need to be told twice. He dashed his way out, paying no heed to the calls of good-byes from the twins, his original goal once more attainable. Briskly walking down Diagon Alley, Oliver turned a corner, inhaled, and apparated. 

The the world burned bright as pain zipped through his body.


	3. Motor Mouth

Oliver's lungs, his head, his whole body burned as he was squeezed from all directions. Everything was wrong, and it _hurt_. He tried to scream but he couldn't move and his vision was pulsating. And it went on _forever_.

Or so he thought, before the apparation gone wrong spat him out on to the dark alley next to his flat, and straight into the wall, scraping his whole right side along the rough bricks.

He took a moment to lay on the dirty ground, pain thrumming along his nerves as he panted through it. His stomach was still recovering from the squeeze of the apparation, and his teeth and jaw ached from clenching them so hard.

Why had this happened? He had apparated countless times before, and it had never...

Oh right...what had Lee said back at the shop? Something about his magic being useless to him? He could have splinched himself in the process and it would have been the twins' fault.

Right. He was going to kill the twins.

At least he was finally here, near his flat, where he would crawl to Percy if he had to. Yes, that was right, his mission. He had to get to their flat, and fast. He had to.

With a groan, Oliver pushed himself up off of the ground and slumped against the wall, an effort which nearly caused him to black out. He couldn't give up. Not now. Not when his whole being was pushing him to do this, to see Percy.

Shaking, Oliver dragged himself into a standing position slowly. He could feel that his right leg was badly injured, and he would have avoided putting pressure on it any other time, but now...he had no other option. He would get to Percy even if it hurt him. 

Slowly, painstakingly, he limped his way to the elevator in his apartment building, using the walls closest to him as a support.

Thankfully, everyone probably at work or busy with something else, because no one stopped him on his way. He hated to think of being stopped now.

He slapped the button, opening the doors and clambering in. In his head was static and the clear intention of getting to his flat.

So he pressed the button to his floor. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Why was he doing this, anyway? The pain was making him hazy, and he just wanted to stop pushing himself. So why was he on his way to Percy and his flat when he could be getting medical help from someone?

But that someone could be Percy. He wanted it to be Percy. No, _needed_ it to be Percy.

Resolved, Oliver pushed himself off of the wall as the elevator doors opened, and stumbled into the familiar hallway to his flat. Oh, he never thought that the grey wallpaper and the yellow lighting would make him feel so...so relieved.

Pushing through the pain, Oliver limped to his door, took his key out of his pocket and... Oh dear. How was he to slide the key into the lock when his vision was swimming just so? What was he to-

Right. He was going to knock on the door. Like a normal person.

"Yes?" The door opened to reveal Percy, making Oliver's heart jump with joy. He did it! He was finally _here_.

"_Oh, Merlin_," Percy gasped at the sight of Oliver, making his stomach twist. What had he done wrong? Did Percy detest the sight of him so?

"You- you're hurt!"

Ah, so that was it then. If he thought about it, his left arm was wet and practically radiating pain. But he didn't really want to dwell on it now that Percy was in front of him. No, what he wanted to dwell on was the new sense of purpose swelling in his chest, the ache to do...something.

Percy gripped his shoulders and dragged him into the flat.

"Merlin, what happened to you, Ollie?!" Percy's breath was coming out short and his grip on Oliver's shoulder were trembling slightly.

"Uh," his brain was doing the weird static thing again.

"_Oliver_," Percy breathed, releasing his shoulders to instead situate his hand on his elbow, gently dragging him across the flat to the bathroom.

"_Percy_," Oliver murmured back, attempting a smile that sent pain rippling down the side of his face.

He was ignored in favour of being pushed against the counter, making Oliver's stomach lurch and flutter.

'_Stop it, Oliver_,' he thought to himself.

"Can you sit on the counter?"

Oliver nodded and pushed himself up with his good arm, so that he was sitting next to the sink with Percy in between his legs, assessing his injuries.

Then he backed away from Oliver to lean down and rummage in the cabinet under the sink.

He wasn't complaining at the shift in attention, as he got to ogle at Percy's behind. He truly wished to tell his flatmate that he was breathtakingly fit. Normally, he wouldn't. Normally, he knew better. Normally, he wouldn't be under the effects of whatever concoction the twins have thought up.

But this wasn't normally.

"You're pretty,"

_Fuck_.

His flatmate let out a squeak that was truly adorable and banged his head under the sink.

"What-what did you say?" Percy asked, raising his head, face burning.

"You're pretty," Oliver repeated, wishing that he had died on the way to the flat.

But there was no stopping now.

"I also think that you're really smart and sometimes I look at you and think, yeah he's my best mate- but damn, is he fit,"

_Shut up, now_.

Percy's blush traveled to his ears, which Oliver thought was downright cute.

_No, stop thinking. Oh god._

"Um, let's get you patched up, sh-shall we?" Percy stuttered, hiding behind his hair, peering into the medical kit.

"Right, first things first, pain relieving potion,"

That may not be the best of ideas. What would happen if he mixed it with whatever was in his system? _Would_ it do anything? Would it stop him from word vomiting on Percy? Would he die?!

"Can't," Oliver said shortly. The idea of shutting up forever was truly tempting, but he didn't want to go out that way.

His flatmate glowered and muttered something about masochism under his breath.

Welp.

"Okay, stay still," Percy instructed, holding Oliver's chin and using his other hand to trace his wand over the wounds on his face.

Oliver felt the sting of _episkey_ and various other spells at work, fixing him up slowly. The pain was a small thrum at the back of his brain though, as the firm touch of Percy's fingers on his chin distracted him for the most part. His fingers were warm and reassuring, almost cutting through the confusing fog of his mind.

Almost.

"What happened to you?" Percy asked. He tilted Oliver's chin to get better access to the lower cuts on his face.

"Apparated. Didn't go well, though,"

Percy's blue eyes flicked up to meet Oliver's at the statement, evidently concerned. Oliver felt slightly bad. But also distracted by his eyes.

So he said so.

Percy's ears lit aflame in response.

Oliver seriously considered concussing himself to stay quiet. However, his mouth didn't just stop there.

"I love it when you blush like that," Oliver blabbed, "it makes me want to kiss your red ears and your cheeks, and I love the way your freckles look against all of that colour. It makes you look so breathtaking-"

Percy placed a shaking hand up to his mouth, muffling his on going rant.

"Please, please, _please_ stop, Oliver," Percy said in a pained tone.

He wanted to so badly, but at the same time, he felt rather liberated. The weight of those feelings being held in everyday was getting rather heavy, and he had always wanted to tell Percy these things. He figured that this was already happening anyway, so he might as well let it.

Grabbing the hand against his mouth to cradle it against his chest, Oliver leaned closer so that he was eye level with Percy.

"I think you're simply magnificent, Percy, I really do. You're hard working and dedicated with what you do, even more so than me. Your huffy attitude is really damn cute and sometimes it takes all of my will to just grab your collar and yank you into a kiss," he took a breath, thoughts hazy with desire. "Your looks are certainly not to be ashamed of, either. You sell yourself so short sometimes, it's baffling to me. There's nothing wrong with your red hair, or your freckles. In fact, I want to touch every single one of your freckles and count them. I want to kiss them too. And, your eyes... your eyes are sometimes so blue, I wanna drown in them, Perce."

At the use of his nickname, Percy's breath stuttered. Their faces were so close that he if he were to lean just a bit further, their lips would touch.

"You're beautiful," Oliver whispered, delighted when Percy's eyes fluttered momentarily.

He could hear his blood pumping and feel the slight shaking of his body. Never in a million years had he thought he would ever be in this position, this close to his best friend's face. He was anticipating his next move, having no idea what to do. That sense of yearning from earlier was gone, and the fog in his head was clearing up somewhat, allowing for him to bask in the moment. He was almost more content than he ever had been in his life.

Percy shifted his wand hand up to the counter next to Oliver's hip and tilted his face closer. It was the most intimate they had ever been, seeing as Oliver had no idea that Percy had felt this way about him too.

Percy had adjusted his hand to Oliver's hip, when a small tinkle of glass hitting the counter stopped him in his tracks. It seemed that his movement had caught Oliver's pocket, allowing for the small vial of amortentia to roll out on to the counter.

At least Oliver now knew what Lee had tucked into his pocket.

Percy's deft fingers snatched the bottle to bring it under his glasses for scrutiny. His face twisted as he read the bright label _'Weasleys' Wizard Weezes love potion'_ splattered across the front.

"_Percy_-"

"Don't," he rasped. "Just... don't."

Percy pushed himself away and carried on with healing the scrapes and wounds all over his body, eyes downcast. The moment was officially gone, and Oliver's heart broke. He had no idea how to handle the situation. Percy had probably presumed already that Oliver was under the love potion, or something of the sort. He couldn't outright say that he wasn't under it's affects, it simply wouldn't be believable.

So he sat there and struggled under the effects of whatever he was under while watching Percy work. And once Percy had finished cleaning Oliver's body of cuts, he shuffled out of the bathroom hurriedly, leaving Oliver alone with his thoughts.

He had no other option but to sleep the twins' terrible concoction off and hope for everything to be better in the morning.


	4. Nest Building

Oliver groggily emerged from his room, having slept off the effects of the terrible dust from the day before. Hopefully, he would be able to clear everything up with Percy and go back to how things had always been. He had no idea how it would play out, but he had to be confident in his and Percy's friendship.

If he could just get Percy to put down his work for two seconds, he would explain himself. Then, he would proceed to send howlers to the twins for the trouble they had caused.

With a deep breath, Oliver rolled his shoulders and took a few confident strides into the kitchen to see-

No Percy.

Maybe his room, then? He turned and marched to his flatmate's bedroom door, nervous. He could do this.

Oliver extended a shaky hand and knocked on the door, then waited for a reply, which never came.

"Percy?" He called, wondering where his flatmate had gone. He slowly turned the handle and opened the door to a Percy-less room. If he wasn't in the whole apartment, then he had either gone on a walk or work.

It was probably the latter.

Sighing with disappointment, Oliver returned to the kitchen and swept his gaze over the room. He knew that it was best to keep busy, and it was late anyway, so he may as well get started on lunch. Then he could do some cleaning, maybe rearrange his room...he just had to keep himself busy.

Oliver rolled his sweater sleeves up with determination and set to work, starting with the food. He had discussed the recipe with his mother on the phone, so he was prepared for a nice distraction from Percy's expression earlier in the bathroom...

Pushing away his dreaded thoughts, Oliver gritted his teeth and started on his dough. Personally, he liked his crusts to be crunchy, but also not to the point where it was too hard. He wondered how Percy liked his crusts-

No. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about Percy at all. He had to focus.

That morning, Oliver spent all of his frustrations on his cooking, rolling it into the dough. He didn't know when his gut-wrenching sadness had transformed into anger, nor did he care.

Once he had slammed the pie into the oven to bake, Oliver swept to the living room and unleashed his pent up frustration into cleaning spells, fluffing up the couch cushions, dusting the shelves and clearing up whatever dirt was on the carpet and floors. He cleared off the table, spelled the plates and bowls to wash themselves in the sink, and levitated Percy's scattered work files to a corner of the coffee table.

He honestly felt ridiculous at the end of his cleaning frenzy. It was as if the older he got, the more like his mother he became, tidying up the house when under stress. It wasn't like he could take his broom out to fly when he had a pie baking in the oven, so what else was he supposed to occupy his mind with?

Feeling suddenly lost, Oliver stood in the kitchen, watching as the dishes were scrubbed, dried, and stacked away in their places. Absently, Oliver wished that he, too had a place to fit into perfectly.

Shaking his head and feeling silly for wanting to be like a plate, Oliver slid to the floor to lean against the warm oven. He wished that Percy was with him, instead of leaving him alone to stew over what had happened. How he was going to explain, or give excuses on the prior events? Whatever his reasons were for leaving, Oliver couldn't lose Percy from his life. They were best mates first and foremost, no matter how much Oliver fancied him. If it meant swallowing his feelings for the rest of his life to keep Percy close, he would do so without a second thought.

But his feelings had seemed to be reciprocated. No uninterested person would lean that close after a confession like that, and that's what scared him. Percy seemed interested, but he had left before things could be cleared up and answered for. Oliver could understand that there were valid reasons for Percy to leave, like avoidance, insecurity, or fear. He wouldn't blame Percy. Rather, Oliver would wait for him to come home, where he could speak to each other and clear the air like adults.

In the meantime, it was probably best to focus on his cooking. Afterwards, he could move on to changing the apartment a bit, with the living room needing a little spicing up with a switch of color scheme, and Oliver had been considering visiting the new home furnishings store down the street for a while now. It was about time that someone replaced the gross old couch that Oliver suspected to have come from a garage sale.

So, once he had set out the pie to cool on the counter, he left the apartment with the vague feeling that he was running away from something.

|||

Hornsby's Home Furnishings was a store which was open to both Muggles and Wizards, not that the muggle shoppers had any idea of it. The inside was clean and offered an organized selection of furniture and other goods. Oliver found himself wholeheartedly appreciating the displays, particularly the ones which propped certain complementary items with one another to give it a look of someone's living room or bedroom. Oliver knew that this was usually seen in muggle furniture stores, and was glad to see the wizarding world embrace such customs.

Oliver proceeded to spend a significantly large portion of his afternoon and evening inspecting and purchasing goods from Hornsby's. His purchases included picture frames, an enchanted mirror, wall paint, curtains, a carpet, and of course a new couch (all of which followed his new color scheme). He had also doubled back to buy the wine rack that he had been eyeing during his prowl throughout the store. And no, it wasn't an unreasonable purchase. And neither was the enchanted mirror. It gave complements, for Merlin's sake, and who wouldn't need that in their home?

And as if he couldn't fall in love with Hornsby's Home Furnishings any more than he had, they had added a discount on the delivery fee. Because yes, he did spend that much on furniture, and he could afford to do so, thank you very much.

The shopping trip was so delightful, that when he had reached his apartment, Oliver was whistling merrily, twirling his keys on his finger as he strutted home. Overall, he would say that his day was very productive. He had cleaned, cooked, and bought a new couch. All in a day's work, he supposed.

He opened his door and pushed the packages (wrapped and delivered within twenty minutes!) inside, where he was ready to work his magic. He doubted that in their many (2) years of living together in the same apartment, they had never even discussed a redecoration plan of any sorts, which was simply absurd. However, that was just how Percy was. Oliver could say confidently that in the couple of years that Percy had rented the apartment on his own, redecoration had never entered the man's head.

Oliver was there to remedy that.

He unwrapped the packaging with glee and set about the house in unrestrained enthusiasm, painting the walls in different colours, changing the curtains, and getting rid of the awful couch which had tormented him for years. Good riddance.

So immersed in his decorating trance, Oliver failed to realize that night had fallen, until he was adjusting his final touch on the apartment, that being the wine rack. It was a rather nice touch, adding a sort of mature and lived-in flair to their kitchen. He would, of course, add wine bottles to it later, but he would have to wait for another occasion to do so.

A sudden clicking at the window lead Oliver away from admiring his handy work to open it. A familiar owl hopped into the apartment, an orange-red envelope tied to his foot.

"Diogenes," Oliver addressed the owl, petting his feathers. He just couldn't catch a break, could he?

He untied the envelope to see the twins' tell-tale scrawl on the front. It was honestly aggravating. He had been distracting himself just fine from the whole dilemma, and now the twins just had to send him something.

Curious as to what they wanted, Oliver ripped it open and read the letter.

_Our dearest Olive,_

_Lee decided that it night be best to give you some time to recover from our test, and now that you're probably feeling better, we can get down to business. Attached to this letter is a form for you to fill out about the effects. Make sure you're thorough!_

_Much love,  
Gred and Forge_

Ticked off and quite frankly tired of the twins, Oliver crumpled up the letter and used his want to set itvon fire. He watched in satisfaction as the offending paper curled and blackened in the sink. Then, gathering the ashes, he took an envelope from his room and filled it with the remains of their letter, tying it to Diogenes and watching as he disappeared into the night sky.

Coming down from his rage-induced high, he had collapsed, bone tired onto his new couch. Percy would be staying out late, per usual, which meant that it was up to Oliver to leave out a plate of the pork pie under a warming charm, for whenever he came home.

Oliver then retired to bed, anxious for the next day to arrive. And if he had heard heavy footsteps outside of his room sometime in the morning, Oliver didn't do anything and simply rolled over, too tired to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I'm sorry, but I can't help but write Oliver as a frantic housespouse


	5. Right Genius

Come morning, Oliver cautiously crept from his room, unsure of what to do with himself. The day before yesterday had been a disaster, and Oliver wasn't exactly sure of where he stood with Percy. He didn't even know if he could handle whatever events were yet to transpire.

A quick peek into the living room revealed the tousled red locks of his flatmate laying across the couch. So he was asleep, then. Alright, Oliver could handle this.

He treaded softly across the floor to loom over the unconscious Percy, who was in a deep sleep. He was still in his ministry clothes, wrinkled from spending the night on the couch, and had evidently fallen asleep while in the middle of working, if the open files over the coffee table was anything to go by.

Oliver sighed, clicked his tongue at Percy's work ethics and unfolded a blanket set aside on the arm of the couch to drape it over Percy's sleeping form. He had a perfectly functional bed that he never seemed to use, and at some point, it had become routine to tuck him in on the couch and set out some breakfast. Today, however, no matter how much he would have liked to stick around and gaze at Percy's lovely face until he woke up, he couldn't, because he had practice to go to.

In a quick pace, Oliver set out a loaf of bread and a jar of jelly on the table for Percy to hopefully happen by. In the process, he passed by the sink to see the plate he had set out for him the night before was practically licked clean. Percy had eaten his dinner, at least.

He gathered his quidditch gear, keys, and wallet, sparing one last glance at his flatmate before leaving the flat and setting off for practice.

This time, he had decided against apparation for a while and settled for riding his broom to the pitch instead. He didn't know how long he would be avoiding apparation, but he figured it wouldn't kill him if he simply avoided it for the rest of his life. Quite the opposite, he assumed.

His flight was mostly uneventful, but refreshing, as riding a broom tended to be for him. Sure, it was a pain in the arse to live in muggle-occupied neighborhoods where he had to take care to remember all of the charms and precautions that came with avoiding being seen, but it was always a delight to feel the wind rippling his clothes and tousling through his hair. He was almost sad to get off of it once he caught sight of their pitch.

He landed softly on the grassy fields of Puddlemore United's fields only to be tackled to the ground by his teammate.

"Welcome back," Angelina said once she relented her attack and allowed Oliver to get up. "The whole team missed you. I could probably kill Fred and George for the stunt they pulled last week."

"Don't bother, I already call dibs, since they've decided that I was a good test subject for their new merchandise just recently. It was awful." He groaned, remembering his babblings and worst of all, his flatmate's face. "Got exposed to some sort of truth-telling-impulsive-compulsion-poweder-thing, ended up saying a lot of weird stuff to Percy and now he's...well."

"Fred didn't tell me anything about that," Angelina said, a storm brewing in her eyes. Oliver could almost see the electricity cackling about in the air, she was so tense. He could only hope that she would knock some sense into the twins for him.

"Yeah. I'm going to get them to St Mungo's myself, see how they like that," Oliver said, only half joking.

"Well, whatever we do to them, it'll be worse than everything they've done to you."

Oliver agreed. Time spent off of the field was time wasted. He could have been on a broomstick with his teammates, going over drills and bettering his skills, and yet, he had been hospitalized by the twins and their dangerous ideas. Ironically enough, quidditch was what had caused his injury, though not in the way that he would have preferred. He had agreed to letting the twins set him up with someone who turned out to be a complete lunatic and a fan of an opposing team. Needless to say, it had not gone down well.

"Alright," their coach's voice cut through their chatter. "Brooms into the air, take positions. Wood, with me."

Oliver bit back a groan and jogged over to his coach.

"Wood, how are you holding up?" she questioned, inspecting his form with a critical eye. "I know that your trip to St Mungo's was a doozy. " She was a rather old witch, but her sharp eyes seemed to pick apart everything about his appearance. 

He internally grimaced. "Fine, Coach Trimmons, just a hex." It wasn't like he enjoyed thinking about the horrors of multi-coloured warts blooming over his entire body. In fact, he'd rather avoid it.

She laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "Such is the life of dating," she said sagely. "Anyway, not what I wanted to talk about. I've got a big thing I need to discuss with you."

Oliver furrowed his brows. "Hopefully nothing serious?" 

"A little bit," Trimmons sighed, and Oliver gulped in trepidation at her grave tone.

"Don't worry, kid," she said, punching his shoulder affectionately. "There's a bit of good news to this anyway. I've reached that age where I've been considering retirement for quite a long time, and I think that once this season is over, I'll end up going through with it."

"You can't!" Oliver cried, "You're not _that_ old. I don't care what the Daily Prophet or anyone says, you're still one of the best players out there!"

"Nope, can't be done. I've done my job and it's fine time I move on to other things," she said. "Besides, I've already booked a holiday in Rome, heard they've got some mighty fine food over there, not to mention my wife is already planning our vacation out. Couldn't cancel it on her like that."

She laughed at the look of horror on Oliver's face. "Lighten up, Wood, I'm not done talkin'," she said. "I've got a good opportunity lined up for you once I've retired, so you won't be too disappointed...I've decided to make you captain."

"YES- wait _no_! " he shouted.

"So you don't want to be captain?" She asked, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I-well, I,"

"You work harder than anyone, Oliver, so help me Merlin, take the goddamn shot or I'll make you." She huffed. 

Oliver's defiant posture wilted to one of submission. "I guess I have to say...yes, as much as I hate to. But I would love to, really." Oliver rambled, feeling like he was making a fool of himself.

"Great, I knew you would see sense," she winked. "Now get on your damn broom and get practicin'."

"Yes, Coach," Oliver said, mounting his broom to join his teammates in the air. He was strangely melancholy and excited all at once. It was a big thing to take in within a span of only a few minutes.

Angelina seemed to have noticed his off mood and maneuvered her broom to slide up next to him. She gently bumped their shoulders with a, "whats up?"

Oliver shrugged and craned his neck up at the cloudy skies. "I guess I'm just shocked."

His teammate patiently waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't know how he would break the news to her. Hell, he didn't know how to wrap his head around it himself. He had dedicated his whole life to quidditch, and now he was finally where we had dreamed of. It was honestly surreal. 

"Ange, you're not gonna believe me if I told you," he said, gripping his broom tightly. "I-"

"Johnson, Wood, you better get to your positions or I'll have to assign you to broom polishing after practice again!"

"Tell me after," Angelina called, and sped off towards the middle of the pitch to receive the quaffle, leaving Oliver to sort through his thoughts on his own. 

|||

"I don't believe it!" one of his teammates cried, sloshing his drink slightly as he tried to stay upright in his chair.

"The part where Trimmons is retiring or the part where I've received captaincy?" Oliver asked.

"The part where you tried to refuse captaincy. Trimmons was going to retire soon anyway. Obviously." 

"Yeah, obviously," Angelina quipped.

Oliver shrugged and took another sip of his beer. He didn't see how it was obvious at all. He had somehow lived on for the last few years figuring that his wonderful coach would never retire, and they could stay being the big happy team as they were. Today's events said otherwise, and he had ended up feeling as though he had awakened from a rather nice and unassuming dream. It was rather unpleasant.

"Cheer up," Angelina scolded. "I didn't take you out to the pub for you to sit there like cold chicken on a plate."

"Yeah, mate. Trimmons retiring isn't that sudden. Some of us have seen it coming from a mile away," another one of his teammates said.

At the look on Oliver's face, Angelina slapped the man upside the head with a firm, "shut up, Dev." It did wonders for Oliver's mood, and he felt a rush of appreciation for her. 

"Besides, it's not like you're wholly unprepared for being captain. You have plenty of experience to not completely run this team into the ground," Angelina said. "We all have total faith in you."

Oliver neglected arguing that coaching some teenagers in school didn't even come close to coaching an official team. He doubted that it would do anything to waver their faith in his abilities. He took a resigned gulp of his drink and pushed his chair out. 

"I'm headed home," he informed his teammates. "See you next practice."

Ignoring their protests, he quickly finished his drink and turned from the table, leaving the pub with a troubled air. Practice had been the hardest it had ever been, what with his internal struggle over the whole coach situation. It also didn't help that he had the Percy debacle to deal with in the near future. He just wanted to go home and collapse in his bed, slumbering well into the next day.

He mounted his broom and flew home, chewing at his lip in thought. If he had to choose, he would say that he was more worried about his situation with Percy than anything. His flatmate was sensitive and stubborn when it came to anything that derailed the efficient workings of his meticulously laid out life.

After dismounting his broom in a discreet area and dismantling the muggle evasion charms, he approached the apartment building with a troubled heart. He was slightly tipsy and his steps were marginally uneven, making his journey to the elevator awkward and tiring. At least his ascend to his floor was calming, although disorienting once he stepped off.A nervousness which he wasn't even aware of carrying emerged at the sight of his apartment door. What if Percy was home? It was certainly late enough for him to be. He palmed the keys with apprehension, sighed, and turned the lock. 

His first step into the apartment was met with silence. He could see that the living room and kitchen lights were on, which wasn't unusual, but still put him on edge. Cautiously, he slipped off his coat and hung it, blearily scoping out the apartment for a certain redhead.

"What are you looking for?" his roommates voice cut through the silence, making Oliver jump and drop his keys. 

He shakily picked them off the floor and fixed a crooked smile for his roommate, who was peeking over the back of the couch.

"Who, me?" Sometimes he could honestly hit himself. Thankfully, Percy let out an amused huff and shook his head, pushing himself out of the couch to walk over to Oliver.

"I noticed that we got a new couch- or rather- a new everything," Percy said, trailing his fingers on the couch with a critical air. "Not that I don't approve, simply that I thought that I was in the wrong apartment this morning."

Percy was close to him now, smiling easily, if not a bit tiredly. Oliver let out a small breath at the sight of that soft smile, melting internally. His roommate had no idea of what he did to him sometimes.

Percy wrinkled his nose and craned his face up to Oliver's searchingly. "Are you drunk?"

_Not drunk enough for this conversation_, he thought to himself, but settled for, "A bit."

Percy _tsked_ at him but then dropped the disapproving act with a small twitch of his lips.

"I thought you were mad at me," Oliver breathed, the uneasy knot in his stomach unraveling.

"Mad at you?" His flatmate asked, tilting his head to the side. "I'm rather glad you gave the apartment a do-over, even if it was a bit sudden. You've done a splendid job, anyhow, and if you want, you can borrow some catalogues from my mother, you know how she enjoys that sort of stuff."

Oliver stared blankly at Percy, his brain struggling to catch up with whatever was coming out of his mouth. He wasn't exactly sure if it was because he was tipsy, or if he was honestly that dense, but the answer which he was receiving was not following the same subject as the one which he had asked. In fact, he wasn't even sure Percy had heard his question. Perhaps he did drink that much?

"So...you're not mad about the-uh, the bathroom incident?" He asked. "Day before yesterday?" He added, just for clarification.

"No, why would I be? The twins are the ones I'm upset with, since they are the ones who gave you a love potion," Percy shook his head. "those two take their pranks too far sometimes..."

Whatever was going on, Oliver was having a difficult time understanding. Percy was acting weird and it was very confusing. He knew that his flatmate didn't play dumb, and he certainly wasn't being coy either.

He really wished he was more sober for this conversation.

"Ollie? Why are you looking at me like that? Oliver?" Percy's eyes were rather close to his face, searching and concerned with Oliver's internal confusion. "You don't have to be embarrassed, it's the twins' fault you acted like that."

Merlin, it was as though he really didn't see what Oliver saw. For a smart man, Percy was really an honest to God idiot sometimes. It was bizarre how Percy couldn't see what was in front of his face at all times. Oliver was smitten with him, in the way that he did everything for Percy, and he somehow didn't see it. Even worse, he knew that Percy felt something for him, even if it was the smallest bit of attraction. He knew what he had seen in the bathroom, even if Percy hadn't.

He just had to make him see.


	6. Mister Ministry

"Are you on for a Weasley dinner this Saturday?" Percy asked, looking up from the letter which had just arrived that morning. "Mother would love for you to visit the Burrow again, at least before quidditch season starts up."

"She knows it's not for a few months, right?" Oliver asked. He assumed she did, considering her family was full of talented quidditch players and enthusiasts alike. What he wouldn't do to have a family big enough for a team.

"She does, but I suppose she's being somewhat dramatic. It has only been a couple of weeks since you have had dinner with us, but then again, it would seem like a lifetime in mother's eyes." Oliver's smiled fondly at the thought.

"I'm not complaining," he said. "Tell her that I would love to be there." A dinner with the Weasleys was definitely something to look forward to at the end of the week.

In the meantime, however, he lacked plans. He had no practice until tomorrow, and even then, for the rest of the week his schedule was empty. He could always return to the furniture store and take a browse through there, but he had a feeling that he shouldn't, in case he spent any more money there. He needed to save up for groceries and other necessities around the flat.

Speaking of ...

"Are we out of bread?" He asked, making his way to the fridge.

"I think we used the last of it for breakfast," Percy called back. "I have to head in to work, so I won't be able to pick anything up at the store, and it's your turn, anyhow. Would you mind?"

He smiled to himself as he checked the fridge. Of course he didn't mind, but he loved that Percy asked every time. " 'Course not, Percy. I'll even get those noodles that you like this time, so we can have pasta. Sound good?"He got a muffled reply from the other room which he took as an affirmative.

He finished up the grocery list and folded it in his pocket. He liked to be useful around the house-which ended up being all of the time, unsurprisingly- and it was a good way to keep himself active, lest he get too bored.

"Right, I'm off to work," Percy informed, hauling his work bag over his shoulder and pushing up his glasses. His hair was as kept as always, but Oliver noticed that he was uncharacteristically disheveled, at least to Percy's standards.

"Wait, lemme fix something first," he said, bounding to Percy's side before he could open the door. He reached out and folded the back of his collar into place.

"It was a bit unkept," he explained when Percy blinked in surprise.

His actions were rewarded with a smile that made his brain scrabbled for a moment, which was probably why, when Oliver spotted a spot of jam on his cheek, he didn't consider what he was doing until he had already reached out and rubbed the spot away with his thumb. And then licked it off of his finger. All in front of Percy. Oliver could feel his face burning, although he wasn't alone, as Percy's ears were turning a slight red.

"Uh-" Oliver faltered, lowering his thumb to wipe it at his jeans, "you had a bit of ah- a bit of jam. On your cheek."

It was silent for a few moments. Oliver was internally screaming, panicking at how he was going to react. Percy was simply staring at Oliver owlishly, hand lifting to the spot where the jam was wiped away, ghosting over it.

Finally, Percy broke the silence with a smile as bright as the sun.

"Thanks, Ollie," he licked his lips. "That could have ended up being very embarrassing for me if I had walked into the ministry with jam on my face."

"No problem, Perce," he croaked. He marveled at how normal his flatmate was acting. As if he wasn't bothered at all with what had just transpired between them.

Percy smiled sweetly before exiting the apartment, leaving Oliver standing in the hallway, staring at the space Percy had stood just moments before.

|||

The apartment was quiet.

Not that it was noisy or any less quiet when Percy was home. It was simply that Oliver was more sensitive to the silence now that he knew his flatmate had gone to work.

Of course, he could always take a ride on his broom and practice, but he only did that five times a week now, and he wasn't feeling quite up for it. The groceries would have to wait until the afternoon anyway, as the majority of shoppers collectively crowded around noon to do their shopping.

Ah, well. Cooking it was.

He hauled himself out of his couch (which was very luxurious and expensive) and slouched to the kitchen. It would be a challenge to whip up a meal with the amount of ingredients currently available in their house, but he could make due.

He opened the fridge and rooted around for some inspiration of some sort, but only found the wrapped sandwiches that he had made the night before for Percy. He had obviously forgotten about it in the rush to leave the apartment. It wasn't unlike him to be eager to get into work, but it was rare for him to be so forgetful and disheveled in the process.

Oliver gnawed at his lip as he considered what to do. He knew that Percy was too busy to get up from his desk to get food for himself from the canteen or anywhere else, and he would feel unprofessional about asking anyone to do it for him. So, this left him with one choice; to visit the ministry and deliver his lunch.

It would certainly be nice to see Percy again, and after his reaction to whatever had happened between them, Oliver had a suspicion of what was going on. He could even test the waters and see just how right he was.

Smirking to himself, Oliver packed the sandwiches into his bag and gripped his broom. If his theory was right, a world of possibilities were open for him. He could almost let himself get carried away in his daydreams of himself and Percy sharing intimate moments, but he wouldn't let himself go so far. He was a man on a mission.

He lifted off from the appropriate location and soared through the sky, determination streaking his heart. He wouldn't let Percy go hungry today, no sir. He would be the responsible one in their dynamic for once, and then Percy would get to see a demonstration of how steady and reliable he is. Percy would then fix him with one of his heartwarming smiles...

By the time Oliver had found himself in front of the ministry, he was afraid that a terribly smitten smile was plastered on his face for all to see. Not exactly a problem, but still a little embarrassing.

He confidently approached the secretary of Percy's department and coughed for her attention, which she gave rather cheerfully.

"Good day! What can I do for you, dear?"

Oliver could answer that proudly.

"I'm here to bring Percy his lunch. Uh, Percy Weasley. Is he here?"

"Of course he's here, he never stops working," she said with a trill giggle.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds like Perce alright," He confirmed. It was really like him to earn a reputation of being a downright workaholic. "Is he alright to have visitors in? I wasn't sure if they had anything important going in at the moment."

"Oh, don't worry, dear. You're perfectly fine. Have you known him long? It's certainly nice to see him taken care of."

"Oh, yeah. We go way back, since Hogwarts." Oliver was going to burst with pride, he had to take a few breaths.

The secretary gave him a considering once over and clapped her hands together with a sudden epiphany.

"You're his sweetheart? The one that packs his lunch everyday?"

Oliver so badly wanted to say yes. He wished to proudly say that he and Percy were an _item_ and that of course he was his _sweetheart_. It was a rather pathetic notion.

"Yeah, I'm the one that packs his lunch," he said, hoping that his voice wasn't as dead as he thought it was.

"Well, come right in, Mr Weasley is waiting for you!" She winked, smirking when he blushed. He really broke his own heart sometimes.

The office was bustling with activity. There were witches and wizards frantically scribbling away at their documents while others carried stacks of books across the room. He had to push past two wizards who looked to be in serious discussion who were blocking the walk way. He predicted that it was something to do with transportation, like brooms or something.

He caught sight of Percy at the front of the room sitting at a large mahogany desk, surrounded by papers and books with a few quills in the air writing away as he concentrated on the papers in his hands. He looked in his element, graceful hands ever so often rising to push the gold framed glasses up his face or to shuffle some papers. His expression was cloudy, firm lines marking the space between his eyebrows.

To put it simply, he was enamouring.

"Hey, Perce," he breathed.

The man looked up, placing his head in the path of the sunlight from the artificial windows. If Oliver thought he could get through one trip to Percy's workplace and act like he wasn't smitten, he was wrong. Percy simply _glowed_ as his lashes turned gold and his freckles were presented for all to see. It was really a humbling sight.

Oliver leaned on the desk in case his knees gave out on him.

"What are you here for, Oliver?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"What, can't I fly in to see you every now and again?" He teased. His friend smiled briefly in reply but then frowned.

"I am rather busy as of now, and I have a number of things to get done before this deadline," Percy said, tone brief. "Not that I don't appreciate your visit, but my hands are rather full at the moment." His voice got smaller towards the end, as though guilty for being so. He looked exhausted, shirt ruffled and unkept. If he looked closely, he could see the dark smudges under his eyes.

"I understand," he assured, reaching out to flick his ear. Percy smiled and batted his hand away.

"Were you really just here for a visit?"

"Hm?" He snapped out of his examination of Percy. "Oh, yeah. No, I brought your lunch."

Percy blinked at the appearance of sandwiches on his desk apprehensively. "You could have just sent the owl."Oh. He hadn't thought of that.

"Is it such a foreign concept that I may have just wanted to see your face?"

Percy blushed and ducked his head, gripping his documents.

"Just wanted to say hi and drop your lunch off, Perce, calm down," he said. "I've got to head off now, but you take it easy, alright? You'll have a nice pot of tea and some pasta waiting for you at home, so don't stay out too late." He almost finished with an 'I love you', it felt so natural.

"Eat your lunch," he finished, "and have a good day." He then spun around to leave the office, ignoring some of the stares directed at him. Percy seemed to work with a bunch of weirdos, it seemed.


	7. Wise Words

Oliver had a feeling that he needed to talk to someone about the constant whirlwind in his head. He wasn't really sure if that was it was, but judging by how he felt like he was about to combust from the feelings inside of him, it was probably best to let it out. He just wasn't exactly sure how to do it. Talking to his mum was out of the question, and his friends were immature and only expected him to rave about quidditch. Teammates were also off limits, as he liked to keep his personal life just that.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. His feelings for Percy were bound to take its toll at some point, especially after festering for so long. It was really no wonder he couldn't talk to anyone about it; he had never had feelings for anyone until Percy, swept up with quidditch as he was.

There was no other option. He would keep it to himself and work it out himself. It wasn't like he was doing a terrible job of doing that either. While he had been testing the waters, he had seen how Percy had reacted to his flirting at the ministry, and it certainly wasn't with repulsion. If he was being completely honest, he would say that Percy had liked it. He didn't like to be so hasty in his conclusions, however. He would need to keep it up if he wanted concrete evidence. 

Merlin, he was starting to sound like Percy with his technical terms...

He glanced down at the grocery list and grumbled. He didn't need anyone to talk to anyway.

Later that day, Oliver pushed his cart through the grocery store, trying to reference his checklist as well as navigate in the most efficient path.

"Grocery shopping, huh?" Angelina said as they strolled down the isle.

"Yeah," he replied, not exactly sure what she was trying to get across. He reached for a box of pasta noodles, scrutinizing the ingredients.

"I somehow didn't peg you as the one who did the shopping," she said, peering at the item in his hand curiously.

"Why not?" He asked absently, frowning at the back of the box. The ingredients list was appallingly unhealthy, leading him to drop the package in disgust and push his cart to explore more of the selection. Maybe they would have those bow tie noodles- they seemed like something right up Percy's alley.

Angelina shrugged and followed him along his expedition, thoroughly assessing each item. She was no doubt bored in the store, but what had he expected? Grocery shopping wasn't typically something you did with friends for fun. What had his motives been originally? To talk about his feelings?

He turned to Angelina. Maybe he could...?

She caught his eye and tilted her head. "Need something, Wood?"

He grimaced. "I need...advice, so to speak," he said stiffly, carefully placing some chosen ingredients into his cart and moving on.

She nodded for him to go on.

"Relationship advice, to be precise," he cleared his throat and navigated his way to the condiment isle and continued, "I figured, you're married and in a healthy relationship, you're my friend, and I've never bothered you with questions like these, so it wouldn't hurt to start now..."

He fumbled with the list in his hands, terribly out of his depth. He had never found it easy to ask for such things, call him prideful.

"I- there's someone," he started, "and he's really great, and we've known each other since forever. He knows more about me than anyone else does, and I'd like to think it's the same for him too. He's smart, if not a bit oblivious, but it's not his fault, he's just a bit overworked. Merlin, I wish he wouldn't work himself so hard ..." He trailed off with a forced grin. "This is a bit weird, sorry."

Angelina stopped his awkward ramble with a gentle hand on his arm. "Oliver, if anything's weird, it's that you think you're being weird in the first place. It's fine, continue,"

"Uh, he's really the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, ever. Like, he can keep up with me and everything. But, anyway, I'm really attracted him, and he seems to feel the same, except he's so busy I don't think he has time to think about all that stuff, anyway," unsure of what to say anymore, Oliver stared at Angelina, waiting for her to say anything.

"It's Percy, isn't it?"

Oliver groaned and nodded. "Is it that obvious?"

She shrugged, but her eyes simply screamed _oh honey_. "You described him as busy and working too much, so I connected the dots there. Not to mention you only passed your classes because he was the only one that could get your ass to sit still for more than a minute at a time. But no, you're fine."

Oliver sheepishly smiled, his chest feeling so much lighter already despite her teasing. Why hadn't he done this sooner?

"So, how did you woo Fred?" He asked.

"He's easy. All I had to do was play hard to get and bam. Boyfriend."

"And now husband," Oliver said, awed and slightly lost. "This doesn't help me at all."

Angelina laughed and patted his shoulder. "You don't exactly need help. You know Percy better than anyone. You know what would win his heart, I'm sure. "

"I do know," he grimaced, "and it's not me."

"What do you mean? He'd be a fool not to be absolutely smitten with you! Even you said that you think it's mutual."

He shook his head. "I think it is, but I shouldn't be what he wants. I know how to woo Percy and it's with brains, wit, intellectual conversation, all that stuff I can't do."

Angelina frowned for a moment before she stormed off, leaving Oliver to scramble at the sudden change of pace. He desperately pushed the cart at a brisk speed, trying to catch up to Angelina. Her long legs and confident strides were difficult for him to keep up with, however, and he found himself skidding slightly on the polished floors of the store.

"Ange..." He huffed, frantically stuffing a bag of crisps into his cart and running after her again. She made no sign of hearing him though, and she turned down another isle. This was certainly not what he had had in mind when he had invited Angelina to the grocers with him earlier that day.

Actually, he had no idea what he had been envisioning at all.

"Wait," he called, yanking the cart into a hard turn, avoiding a display. She turned around and regarded him with an impatient stare, making him feel slightly foolish. "Why are we going so fast?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled the front of the cart, continuing at a slightly slower speed.

"I'm helping you woo him, you idiot,"

"What?!" Oliver cried, bewildered at the turn of events. Didn't he just say that he wasn't of the right material to win over Percy's heart?

"Stop standing around and look at this," she slammed a case of chocolates into the cart and continued pulling it down the store. "You gotta up your cooking game to get your intentions across first." She then proceeded to examine a bottle of wine before shrugging and adding it to the cart.

Oliver was now more aware of how screwed he was. Denying Angelina was out of the question. She was taller and stronger than him, not to mention stubborn. He would simply have to roll with it.

"Salmon dinner or steak?" She asked. Oliver tried to protest, he really did, but it seemed that she had tragically gone deaf, as moments later without a definite answer from him, she turned away muttering "What about spaghetti? That's pretty romantic ..."

He eventually had to stop her when she tried to add the candles for "romantic affect", which was very obviously a terrible idea. He wasn't that dense.

"At least add something that sets the mood,"

He chewed his lip with consideration. "Like music?"

"Mmmm, more like clothes. Own anything that could seduce Percy?"

Oliver considered. Obviously, his quidditch gear came to mind first, but he was quick to sweep that thought aside. As fit as he looked in his uniform, it wasn't something that would necessarily seduce Percy. No, he was more into strict and formal clothing.

"I have a pair of slacks and a dress shirt," he said. He could even roll up the sleeves too.

Angelina nodded in approval and slapped his shoulder. "Before you know it, we're going to be in-laws."

Oliver almost fell into the shelf a at the idea.


	8. Be Mine?

Oliver took a step back to admire his set up. He had draped a dark cloth over the table, along with a matching set of plates and glasses. He had even added the touch of a single candle in the middle, casting flickering light over the darkened room.

Oh yes, this would definitely do. There was no way Percy would be able to mistake this gesture for anything else. This was going to make or break their future relationship.

He heard the lock click as Percy opened the door to their apartment. Oliver quickly checked his dress shirt to make sure that it was tucked in properly and straightened his posture.

"Ollie?"

He spun around to a quizzical Percy standing in the entrance of the dining room, his briefcase and documents tucked loosely under his arm.

"What are you all dressed up for?"

Oliver gave what he hoped to be a charming smile and simply took Percy by the shoulders and lead him to the seat. He took the papers and briefcase from his hold and placed it aside, as they certainly wouldn't be needing them for a while.

"Ollie, what-"

Oliver shushed him. He pushed the plate of pasta forward, and with a flourish, presented a fork. Percy still looked slightly lost, but with time, he would come to understand.

Oliver poured some wine into both of their glasses and took the seat opposite of Percy.

"Nice night, isn't it?" He asked, leisurely swirling the wine in the glass.

Percy owlishly blinked and adjusted his glasses. "Are you wearing a dress shirt? With slacks?"

He internally did a victory dance.

"Why yes," he grinned wolfishly over his glass. "You like it?"

A pink tint appeared over Percy's cheeks as he silently assessed his appearance over the table.

"How was work today?" Diverting the subject would surly relax Percy into conversation.

Percy blinked once before he snapped back into attention. "Work was fine. We didn't seem to be as productive as usual, however. It may have had something to do with your visit to the office," he stared into his pasta for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Oliver. "They seemed to be very curious about you."

"Oh?" His quidditch career was only now starting to kick off, so it was unlikely that the attention was due to fame.

"Yes, it was rather annoying and it set me behind by nearly thirty minutes!" He pulled a disgruntled face. "All they did today was ask me how I happened upon a '_handsome young man that cooks and coddles_' as though that isn't the most inappropriate question you could ask your work superior. I didn't know how to answer!"

"You didn't just tell them that you 'happened upon' me at Hogwarts? Sounds like an easy question to me."

Percy spluttered and glared at him. "You know what I mean. I can't answer a question that's worded like _that_. It's undignified."

"So how did you answer?"

Percy turned his attention back to his plate and quickly changed the subject. "How was your day?"

"Great, since I got to drop in and disturb your work," he grinned at Percy, whose lips had thinned. He was evidently not mad with him, but he was still unamused.

Oliver picked at his pasta and stole a glance at Percy, who was concentrating on eating his own food. Was he aware of what kind of dinner they were having? The gesture he was trying to make? 

He had dressed well, the table was set for the occasion, and the lighting was perfect. Although there was something he was forgetting...

Percy must have felt his stare, as he met his eyes with a tilt of his head.

"Is something wrong?"

"Hm? Me?" How could he possibly hint at what the connotations of his actions were? What was he missing here?

"You've been acting different since I got home," Percy's words took on a gentler tone as he reached across the table to rest his hand against Oliver's forehead.

"I'm not sick," he insisted, nudging Percy's hand away from his forehead. "I'm just really nervous."

Percy's eyebrows lifted. "Nervous?" He pressed his hands against his forehead again, this time with more pressure. "We both know you're hardly ever nervous, Oliver. Did something serious happen?"

Now would have been a good time to answer with a 'yeah, I fell in love with you' but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and swallowing felt like a chore.

"Ollie?"

Percy's hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them securely. It was like an anchor finding him in a storm at sea. He could feel the air rush into his lungs and his muscles lose their tension by a fraction.

This was Percy, the man that, despite their differences, decided that being friends with Oliver was a logical and perfectly sound idea. He was the one who had helped Oliver through their years spent at Hogwarts, assisting him with homework and getting him to study. He had spilled all of his worries to Percy, and in turn, had been there for him as well, listening to him talk about the misery of being away from his family during the war. Despite all of the things that had happened in the past, they were still _them_.

Percy's wide eyes were searching Olivers', worry etched between his thin eyebrows, and he knew. Percy deserved the truth.

"You know..." He started, clearing his throat, "I've been trying to tell you for a while, and I know this is something of a big deal. It might change some things, and I didn't want to tell you until now, not because I'm a coward but because I care a lot about us and how things might change, and I just want you to know-"

"You got captaincy?" Percy filled in, a small smile curving his lips.

"Well yes- but no-"

"Oliver, you didn't try to reject the captaincy, did you?"

"No-"

"Ollie," he gripped his shoulders firmly. "You will be a great captain, I have no doubts about that. Your team respects you, you're motivated and hard working, and I don't believe that you will get another chance like this any time soon. I'm proud of you."

On second thought, maybe he should have added more candles. The conversation was derailing so terribly, he didn't even know how it had all gone so wrong.

"Oliver, you will do wonderfully. Don't worry about it," he took his hands away from his shoulders to grip his arms. "As for change, unless you want to move out, I don't see how there's anything to worry about. You might be significantly more busy than you used to be, but that's to be expected with promotions."

Oliver was touched by Percy's sincerity, but was still stunned by how terribly that confession had gone.

"This all come out wrong," he stuttered.

"You- Are you moving out?" Percy's eyes were emptied of their shining look, hollowed out by the betrayal. Oliver's gut twisted and he scrambled to remedy the miscommunication.

"Perce, I'm not moving out, first of all," he took Percy's hands in his and swallowed thickly. "Second, I meant to say something completely different before you took what I said earlier as an announcement, which I'm curious to know where you heard that from."

"Angelina. She sent an owl."

"Of course," she had probably announced it to half of the world on his behalf. "That's not what I'm trying to say, though. What I meant to say was that..."

He looked down to where their hands were joined, Percy's freckled ones dwarfed by his own rough, tan ones. It was such a stark contrast, but it looked so right, as though they belonged together. If he were to affirm anything as a universal truth, it was that he and Percy were meant to be.

"I admire you, Perce," he croaked. "You're my best friend in the whole world, and I don't want anyone by my side but you, and these past few weeks, ice been trying to figure out if you'd feel the same, but... I still want you to know, even if I don't have a chance, even if you don't feel the same. Because you deserve to know that you're mazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Percy's hands were shaking, and he was staring at Oliver with wide eyes.

"Percy?" His heart was beating wildly and it felt as though the world was tethered to whatever reply would come out of Percy's trembling lips.

Finally, a whisper. "You think I'm amazing?"

Oliver let out a startled laugh. "Percy, I basically just confessed to you. Of course I think so."

"Yes, but _you_ think _I'm_ amazing. You."

"You did this- all of this, for me?" His voice cracked towards the end, and Oliver rushed forward to curl a palm towards his cheek in reassurance.

"Of course, Perce," he said. "I've been doing a lot of things for you for a long time. If you'd let me, I'd like to do it for a lot longer."

Percy leaned into Oliver's palm, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them to gaze back at him with open affection.

"How long is a lot longer?"

"Would saying 'forever' be a bit too forward?" He asked, half serious, half mirthful.

"Not at all."


	9. Smooth Sailing

"Excited?" Oliver asked as he walked Percy out of his office, their hands brushing. Percy had taken a half day for the occasion after weeks of pestering and from Oliver and the Weasleys, and they couldn't be more pleased about it. Molly had even told Oliver herself that he would never have taken even a minute off of work before, and that she was immensely grateful for his help.

"Ollie, I'm a grown wizard."

"And? Nothings stopping you from looking forward to your birthday," Oliver said, sneakily hooking his pinkie finger with Percy's. While he knew that he didn't like to display affection while he was at work, their robes hid it for the most part, and they were almost out of the building anyway.

Percy glared at him, but Oliver could see the corner of his lips twitching upwards, and squeezed their fingers tighter together.

"You just can't wait to get to the burrow and play quidditch," he scoffed. "You're probably only dating me so you can partake in the matches."

Oliver pulled Percy close and pecked him on the forehead. "That's only a small fraction of it, love."

Percy regained his personal space and huffed. "You're unbelievable." But he wasn't too miffed by his teasing, judging by how he was still holding his hand.

They traveled through the floo exit, finally leaving the ministry and arriving in the cozy home of the Weasleys, greeted by Molly right away.

"Oh, look who it is!" She gripped both of them in a tight hug and stepped back to fix Percy's collar. "Is the birthday boy ready for his cake and presents?"

"Mother..." Percy groaned, but Oliver could tell that he was secretly enjoying the attention.

"Oh, all aright," she lead them through the back door and into the yard, in which there was a large table and some ribbon decorating the trees and seats, along with a few Weasleys here and there. "Seat yourselves, I'll be right out once Harry and Gin get here."

Oliver made to pull out his chair next to Percy's, but was interrupted by Angelina grabbing his shoulder.

"We're about to start a match, and I want you on my team," she said, "seeing as you're my captain and all."

Oliver sighed, unamused. Even after weeks after he had become the captain, she was still unable to drop it.

"Get that shite-eating grin off of your face, Johnson."

"You think using your captain-voice is gonna get me to stop?" She simply laughed at the notion, pushed a broom into his hands, and walked off.

"Captain voice?" Percy said, raising a brow. "The very same one from our days at Hogwarts?"

"Perce, please."

"Alright," Percy accepted a kiss from Oliver, releasing him to the Weasley's family quidditch match.

The rest of the evening was spent flying in the small clearing, scoring points and enjoying good natured scuffles if there were fouls detected by Lee. At one point, they had all gotten into an argument on how Lee was biased towards George, although they couldn't be upset about it for more than a few minutes until they burst into laughter and resolved the issue by throwing teasing remarks at the two throughout the game.

By the time Molly finally called them all back, the sun was nearly setting, leaving them to lug their brooms back to the shed, somewhat worn out.

He returned to his place next to Percy and heartily enjoyed the magnificent meal that Molly had cooked up, and later sang along with everyone as the candles on the cake were lit and blown out.

"Did you wish for something good?" He asked, rubbing a thumb along Percy's hand.

Percy turned to Oliver with a flat look. "I wouldn't wish for something bad, Ollie. That would be just plain silly," He turned back around to accept the plates of cake from Molly and leaned back into Oliver's side. "Besides, I've already got something good right here, haven't I?"

Oliver blinked and felt his body warm. If anything, Percy was his 'something good'.

"Anyway, eat up," he said, as though he hadn't said the sappiest thing seconds before, although it was probably better left unacknowledged. Oliver didn't think he was in the right condition to endure anymore before somehow embarrassing them both in front of all of the Weasleys.

Fred and George later brought out the alcohol and merrily sang an improv birthday song of sorts, causing Percy to bury his face in his palms and the rest of the Weasleys to groan. Eventually, they gave up on singing and settled with playing a drinking game with anyone who would join (which only included the twins, Lee, Angelina and Ginny).

While everyone was occupied, Oliver lead Percy over to a secluded oak tree, and they leaned against it's large trunk, comfortable.

"Happy?" He asked, leaning farther into his side, enamored by how the sides of Percy's eyes crinkled with a smile.

"What kind of question is that?"

"What do you mean, what kind of question is that? I'm just asking!"

Percy laughed and leaned back, silent for a moment. The crickets chirped around them, and the air, although cool, was pleasant against the warmth of their bodies pressed against one another. A laugh rose from behind them in the yard, and the world, or at least the small area in which the burrow stood, was lively as they sat against the oak tree, soaking in the stars.

Percy moved to meet his eyes with a pleased smile, raising his hand to brush through Oliver's messy locks.

"You make me happy," he replied, and dipped to join their lips.

Oliver sighed into the gentle kiss and hummed, his heart ebbing with affection.

Could it possibly get any better?

(It did)


End file.
